from the wall of a
small flanking battery, where two patereroes were placed to scour the
pass, in case any enemy could have mounted so high. Julian had scarce
time to shudder at her purpose, as he beheld her about to spring from
the parapet, ere, like a thing of gossamer, she stood light and
uninjured on the rocky platform below. He endeavoured, by the gravity
of his look and gesture, to make her understand how much he blamed her
rashness; but the reproof, though obviously quite intelligible, was
entirely thrown away. A hasty wave of her hand intimated how she
contemned the danger and the remonstrance; while, at the same time,
she instantly resumed, with more eagerness than before, the earnest
and impressive gestures by which she endeavoured to detain him in the
fortress.

Julian was somewhat staggered by her pertinacity. "Is it possible," he
thought, "that any danger can approach the Countess, of which this
poor maiden has, by the extreme acuteness of her observation, obtained
knowledge which has escaped others?"

He signed to Fenella hastily to give him the tablets and the pencil
which she usually carried with her, and wrote on them the question,
"Is there danger near to your mistress, that you thus stop me?"

"There is danger around the Countess," was the answer instantly
written down; "but there is much more in your own purpose."

"How?--what?--what know you of my purpose?" said Julian, forgetting,
in his surprise, that the party he addressed had neither ear to
comprehend, nor voice to reply to uttered language. She had regained
her book in the meantime, and sketched, with a rapid pencil, on one of
the leaves, a scene which she showed to Julian. To his infinite
surprise he recognised Goddard Crovan's Stone, a remarkable monument,
of which she had given the outline with sufficient accuracy; together
with a male and female figure, which, though only indicated by a few
slight touches of the pencil, bore yet, he thought, some resemblance
to himself and Alice Bridgenorth.

When he had gazed on the sketch for an instant with surprise, Fenella
took the book from his hand, laid her finger upon the drawing, and
slowly and sternly shook her head, with a frown which seemed to
prohibit the meeting which was there represented. Julian, however,
though disconcerted, was in no shape disposed to submit to the
authority of his monitress. By whatever means she, who so seldom
stirred from the Countess's apartment, had become acquainted with a
secret which he thought entirely his own, he esteemed it the more
necessary to keep the appointed rendezvous, that he might learn from
Alice, if possible, how the secret had transpired. He had also formed
the intention of seeking out Bridgenorth; entertaining an idea that a
person so reasonable and calm as he had shown himself in their late
conference, might be persuaded, when he understood that the Countess
was aware of his intrigues, to put an end to her danger and his own,
by withdrawing from the island. And could he succeed in this point, he
should at once, he thought, render a material benefit to the father of
his beloved Alice--remove the Earl from his state of anxiety--save the
Countess from a second time putting her feudal jurisdiction in
opposition to that of the Crown of England--and secure quiet
possession of the island to her and her family.

With this scheme of mediation on his mind, Peveril determined to rid
himself of the opposition of Fenella to his departure, with less
ceremony than he had hitherto observed towards her; and suddenly
lifting up the damsel in his arms before she was aware of his purpose,
he turned about, set her down on the steps above him, and began to
descend the pass himself as speedily as possible. It was then that the
dumb maiden gave full course to the vehemence of her disposition; and
clapping her hands repeatedly, expressed her displeasure in sound, or
rather a shriek, so extremely dissonant, that it resembled more the
cry of a wild creature, than anything which could have been uttered by
female organs. Peveril was so astounded at the scream as it rung
through the living rocks, that he could not help stopping and looking
back in alarm, to satisfy himself that she had not sustained some
injury. He saw her, however, perfectly safe, though her face seemed
inflamed and distorted with passion. She stamped at him with her foot,
shook her clenched hand, and turning her back upon him, without
further adieu, ran up the rude steps as lightly as a kid could have
tripped up that rugged ascent, and paused for a moment at the summit
of the first flight.

Julian could feel nothing but wonder and compassion for the impotent
passion of a being so unfortunately circumstanced, cut off, as it
were, from the rest of mankind, and incapable of receiving in
childhood that moral discipline which teaches us mastery of our
wayward passions, ere yet they have attained their meridian strength
and violence. He waved his hand to her, in token of amicable farewell;
but she only replied by once more menacing him with her little hand
clenched; and then ascending the rocky staircase with almost
preternatural speed, was soon out of sight.

Julian, on his part, gave no farther consideration to her conduct or
its motives, but hastening to the village on the mainland, where the
stables of the Castle were situated, he again took his palfrey from
the stall, and was soon mounted and on his way to the appointed place
of rendezvous, much marvelling, as he ambled forward with speed far
greater than was promised by the diminutive size of the animal he was
mounted on, what could have happened to produce so great a change in
Alice's conduct towards him, that in place of enjoining his absence as
usual, or recommending his departure from the island, she should now
voluntarily invite him to a meeting. Under impression of the various
doubts which succeeded each other in his imagination, he sometimes
pressed Fairy's sides with his legs; sometimes laid his holly rod
lightly on her neck; sometimes incited her by his voice, for the
mettled animal needed neither whip nor spur, and achieved the distance
betwixt the Castle of Holm-Peel and the stone at Goddard Crovan, at
the rate of twelve miles within the hour.

The monumental stone, designed to commemorate some feat of an ancient
King of Man, which had been long forgotten, was erected on the side of
a narrow lonely valley, or rather glen, secluded from observation by
the steepness of its banks, upon a projection of which stood the tall,
shapeless, solitary rock, frowning, like a shrouded giant, over the
brawling of the small rivulet which watered the ravine.

CHAPTER XVII

This a love-meeting? See the maiden mourns,
And the sad suitor bends his looks on earth.
There's more hath pass'd between them than belongs
To Love's sweet sorrows.
--OLD PLAY.

As he approached the monument of Goddard Crovan, Julian cast many an
anxious glance to see whether any object visible beside the huge grey
stone should apprise him, whether he was anticipated, at the appointed
place of rendezvous, by her who had named it. Nor was it long before
the flutter of a mantle, which the breeze slightly waved, and the
motion necessary to replace it upon the wearer's shoulders, made him
aware that Alice had already reached their place of meeting. One
instant set the palfrey at liberty, with slackened girths and loosened
reins, to pick its own way through the dell at will; another placed
Julian Peveril by the side of Alice Bridgenorth.

That Alice should extend her hand to her lover, as with the ardour of
a young greyhound he bounded over the obstacles of the rugged path,
was as natural as that Julian, seizing on the hand so kindly stretched
out, should devour it with kisses, and, for a moment or two, without
reprehension; while the other hand, which should have aided in the
liberation of its fellow, served to hide the blushes of the fair
owner. But Alice, young as she was, and attached to Julian by such
long habits of kindly intimacy, still knew well how to subdue the
tendency of her own treacherous affections.

"This is not right," she said, extricating her hand from Julian's
grasp, "this is not right, Julian. If I have been too rash in
admitting such a meeting as the present, it is not you that should
make me sensible of my folly."

Julian Peveril's mind had been early illuminated with that touch of
romantic fire which deprives passion of selfishness, and confers on it
the high and refined tone of generous and disinterested devotion. He
let go the hand of Alice with as much respect as he could have paid to
that of a princess; and when she seated herself upon a rocky fragment,
over which nature had stretched a cushion of moss and lichen,
interspersed with wild flowers, backed with a bush of copsewood, he
took his place beside her, indeed, but at such distance as to intimate
the duty of an attendant, who was there only to hear and to obey.
Alice Bridgenorth became more assured as she observed the power which
she possessed over her lover; and the self-command which Peveril
exhibited, which other damsels in her situation might have judged
inconsistent with intensity of passion, she appreciated more justly,
as a proof of his respectful and disinterested sincerity. She
recovered, in addressing him, the tone of confidence which rather
belonged to the scenes of their early acquaintance, than to those
which had passed betwixt them since Peveril had disclosed his
affection, and thereby had brought restraint upon their intercourse.

"Julian," she said, "your visit of yesterday--your most ill-timed
visit, has distressed me much. It has misled my father--it has
endangered you. At all risks, I resolved that you should know this,
and blame me not if I have taken a bold and imprudent step in desiring
this solitary interview, since you are aware how little poor Deborah
is to be trusted."

"Cease your protestations, Julian," answered the maiden; "they do but
make me the more sensible that I have acted over boldly. But I did for
the best.--I could not see you whom I have known so long--you, who say
you regard me with partiality----"

"/Say/ that I regard you with partiality!" interrupted Peveril in his
turn. "Ah, Alice, with a cold and doubtful phrase you have used to
express the most devoted, the most sincere affection!"

"Well, then," said Alice sadly, "we will not quarrel about words; but
do not again interrupt me.--I could not, I say, see you, who, I
believe, regard me with sincere though vain and fruitless attachment,
rush blindfold into a snare, deceived and seduced by those very
feelings towards me."

"I understand you not, Alice," said Peveril; "nor can I see any danger
to which I am at present exposed. The sentiments which your father has
expressed towards me, are of a nature irreconcilable with hostile
purposes. If he is not offended with the bold wishes I may have
formed,--and his whole behaviour shows the contrary,--I know not a man
on earth from whom I have less cause to apprehend any danger or ill-
will."

"My father," said Alice, "means well by his country, and well by you;
yet I sometimes fear he may rather injure than serve his good cause;
and still more do I dread, that in attempting to engage you as an
auxiliary, he may forget those ties which ought to bind you, and I am
sure which will bind you, to a different line of conduct from his
own."

"You lead me into still deeper darkness, Alice," answered Peveril.
"That your father's especial line of politics differs widely from
mine, I know well; but how many instances have occurred, even during
the bloody scenes of civil warfare, of good and worthy men laying the
prejudice of party affections aside, and regarding each other with
respect, and even with friendly attachment, without being false to
principle on either side?"

"It may be so," said Alice; "but such is not the league which my
father desires to form with you, and that to which he hopes your
misplaced partiality towards his daughter may afford a motive for your
forming with him."

"And what is it," said Peveril, "which I would refuse, with such a
prospect before me?"

"Treachery and dishonour!" replied Alice; "whatever would render you
unworthy of the poor boon at which you aim--ay, were it more worthless
than I confess it to be."

"Would your father," said Peveril, as he unwillingly received the
impression which Alice designed to convey,--"would he, whose views of
duty are so strict and severe--would he wish to involve me in aught,
to which such harsh epithets as treachery and dishonour can be applied
with the lightest shadow of truth?"

"Do not mistake me, Julian," replied the maiden; "my father is
incapable of requesting aught of you that is not to his thinking just
and honourable; nay, he conceives that he only claims from you a debt,
which is due as a creature to the Creator, and as a man to your
fellow-men."

"So guarded, where can be the danger of our intercourse?" replied
Julian. "If he be resolved to require, and I determined to accede to,
nothing save what flows from conviction, what have I to fear, Alice?
And how is my intercourse with your father dangerous? Believe not so;
his speech has already made impression on me in some particulars, and
he listened with candour and patience to the objections which I made
occasionally. You do Master Bridgenorth less than justice in
confounding him with the unreasonable bigots in policy and religion,
who can listen to no argument but what favours their own
prepossessions."

"Julian," replied Alice; "it is you who misjudge my father's powers,
and his purpose with respect to you, and who overrate your own powers
of resistance. I am but a girl, but I have been taught by
circumstances to think for myself, and to consider the character of
those around me. My father's views in ecclesiastical and civil policy
are as dear to him as the life which he cherishes only to advance
them. They have been, with little alteration, his companions through
life. They brought him at one period into prosperity, and when they
suited not the times, he suffered for having held them. They have
become not only a part, but the very dearest part, of his existence.
If he shows them not to you at first, in the flexible strength which
they have acquired over his mind, do not believe that they are the
less powerful. He who desires to make converts, must begin by degrees.
But that he should sacrifice to an inexperienced young man, whose
ruling motive